


reassure me (it’s not working)

by MINECRAFTZA



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Betrayal, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inner Dialogue, Internal Conflict, Not Really Character Death, Panic Attacks, Platonic Relationships, President Toby Smith | Tubbo, Self-Doubt, Self-Hatred, Sort Of, dadza to the rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28559733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MINECRAFTZA/pseuds/MINECRAFTZA
Summary: it’s the day of the festival. he clutches his book tightly in his hand. he tries to reassure him that it’ll be okay.they don’t know.(a short fictional oneshot of ranboo’s pov of the second festival. this is based off what happened in ranboo’s stream regarding his book.)
Relationships: Ranboo & Phil Watson, Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo
Comments: 2
Kudos: 197





	reassure me (it’s not working)

**Author's Note:**

> i tried incorporating the whole thing ranboo was doing on stream with like the two different sides of him talking and idk if it worked haha. this is kind of my prediction of what might happen at the festival but i hope you enjoy it :)

it’s the day of the festival. he clutches his book tightly in his hand. he tries to reassure him that it’ll be okay. 

they don’t know. 

even when they turn to him, as he stands with them, the friends he betrayed, he keeps reassuring him. 

they don’t know.

the look in the president’s eyes tells him that’s not true. they know. he tries to speak. to justify his actions. to defend himself. 

a crossbow is pointed at his chest. he can’t breathe. he can’t focus. the boy in front of him, holding the crossbow, is talking.

he can’t bring himself to listen. 

he turns to the others, eyes begging them to help. to help him. they just stare back. they ask him if he has any final words. 

he does. he has so much to say. but instead he remains silent, hands shaking as he holds them up. begging for mercy.

the president, the boy, his friend, tightens his grip on the crossbow. he closes his eyes, bracing for the impact. the pain. 

maybe he deserves it. he tries to tell him he doesn’t. it’s not reassuring. after all, he helped the enemy, the enemy of the country that gave him a home.

he’s too busy thinking that he doesn’t realise that nothing has happened. no impact. no pain. 

he finally breathes and opens his eyes and looks down, expecting to meet the eyes of the president. instead, he is looking at the top of a person’s head. more specifically, their hat.

‘you know that hat’ he tells him. a blue and white one, belonging to the man that saved him all those weeks ago. and here he is again, defending him. willing to risk his life for him. 

maybe he was a bad person, maybe he did deserve to die. but knowing that at least one person believed otherwise was enough. 

he doesn’t remember what happened after that but he does remember a comforting hand on his arm, a soothing voice reassuring him and snow falling all around him.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on twitter @MlNECRAFTZA (the i is a lowercase L)


End file.
